


Promotion

by lodessa



Series: Lorca/Cornwell Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 08:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12503556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lodessa/pseuds/lodessa
Summary: “Kaaaat,” another bang on the door, “Come on, Kat let me in.”Boundaries. She knows.  There’s a whole host of things she would tell any one of her patients in this situation.It’s Gabriel though and Gabriel is just so difficult to say no to.  Even if you do say no to him he just keeps trying alternative approaches until you finally give in.  It shouldn’t be charming.  It is.“Someone is going to call security,” she tells him, as the door slides open to reveal him standing there in the hallway.“Well then, you’d better let me in before that happens,” he shrugs.





	Promotion

“Kaaaat,” another bang on the door, “Come on, Kat let me in.”

Boundaries. She knows. There’s a whole host of things she would tell any one of her patients in this situation.

It’s Gabriel though and Gabriel is just so difficult to say no to. Even if you do say no to him he just keeps trying alternative approaches until you finally give in. It shouldn’t be charming. It is.

“Someone is going to call security,” she tells him, as the door slides open to reveal him standing there in the hallway.

“Well then, you’d better let me in before that happens,” he shrugs, eyes motioning the arm she has stretched across the doorway.

He’s drunk but not as drunk as he’s acting. She’s known him long enough to be able to tell that much. She gives him a quick once over and…

“You’re bleeding,” she realizes, stepping back out of the doorway and resigning herself to letting him in, “Of course you’re bleeding!”

It shouldn’t surprise her. Gabriel has always been one to pick a fight when he’s bored or frustrated.

Still as he walks past her she reaches out a touches the stickiness of the blood congealing right along his hairline.

“Only a little,” he tells her, “Less than the other guy.”

“And what exactly did this other guy do to end up exchanging blows with you?”

Whatever answer he gives won’t be the real one, not at first.

“Would you believe I was defending your honor,” he tells her glibly.

“No,” she rolls her eyes, “And my honor doesn’t need you defending it.”

“Of course not,” he slurs with a false exaggeration, “Because you are the model of what a Starfleet officer should look like.”

“Gabriel,” she interjects, “Why did you come here?”  
“I miss you,” he tells her and she knows he does, in his own way. He reaches out and places one hand just below her chin, barely brushing her skin but she lifts it up towards him anyway.

“Are you sure it wasn’t because you want me to make you feel better, about the fight and about not getting that post?”

“I thought you couldn’t be my counselor,” he evades, “You know given our history.”

“And I’m not,” she reminds him softly, “I’m just reminding you I’m here to talk. That is a thing friends do you know.”

“And what if I don’t want to talk,” he replies suggestively, fingertips trailing down her throat.

He’s always preferred to claim that is why he shows up like this, that it is sex he is seeking and not something beyond just that.

“Nobody is better at cheering me up than you, Kat.”

That part, that part she thinks is true. He turns to her for comfort, even if it’s easier for him to swallow paired with sex. 

Not that the sex isn’t worthwhile on its own. It definitely is, which is probably part of why she can’t seem to be bothered to try and form any real attachment to something with more potential for stability and commitment. Though how many so called committed relationships between officers has she seen last this long… not many. She and Gabriel have never promised each other anything but that hasn’t stopped either of them from following through on being there.

“No one is less impressed with your bullshitting than me,” she replies but she is already well aware they will end up in bed together tonight.

“I seem to recall you being very impressed with some of the things I can do,” he continues unabashed.

“Gabriel,” she sighs, “Talk to me.”

“Fine. I was upset about not getting that first officer spot so I picked a fight for no good reason and when that didn’t work I came running to you to make me feel better. Does that make you happy?”

“That you are talking to me about it, yes. That you’re hurting and making bad rash decisions, no.”

“I don’t think coming here was a bad decision and I don’t think you really believe it was either.”

He’s right. She let him in and that’s because some part of her narcissistically thinks she’s good for him, that she can help him in ways no one else can.

“Was the bar fight really necessary?” she teases.

“The bleeding is a well honed battle tactic. You have never been able to resist it. Must be your pathological need to rescue and fix people… That or you’re a vampire.”

She finds herself laughing at his joke, despite the well placed jab, reminding her that she doesn’t just know him, that the intimate knowledge goes both ways.

“Remember Risa?” she shakes her head, “You’re the only person I know who can turn a getaway to a pleasure planet into a blood sport.”

“I made up for it,” he argues.

“You still owe me a case of Single Malt,” she reminds him.

“Half a case,” he contests, “But I’ll tell you what. I’ll have it waiting for you when you get to the Frontera.”

“Does that mean we are talking about it now?” she asks.

He’s said it out loud, acknowledged that she got that posting he wanted, even if not explicitly. The tension eases a little.

“It means I’m sorry I was an asshole about it earlier.”

“You were,” she acknowledges, “It was not unexpected, though.”

Neither is the way he leans in to kiss her or the way it makes her feel. 

Practiced hands unzipping her jacket. The way she takes his face in her hands as he lifts her up with his hands on her hips.

“What am I going to do without you?” he asks as she finds her feet again, grabbing his collar and pushing him back towards the direction of her bed.

“Bleed some more,” she teases, peeling him out of his shirt and gently shoving him down onto the blanket.

“That IS a kink for you, isn’t it?” he chuckles, working the front of her pants open.

“Maybe you’ve been around me for too long,” she retorts, dropping to her knees at the foot of the bed and working on getting him out of his own, “If you are starting to armchair diagnose.”

Neither of them says anything for a while, between the kissing at the undressing.

There’s that spot on the sick of her neck and that one next to his collarbone. She’s far too old to think that this is the last time, to want it to be, to want it to not be. This haphazard constant between them has been a fact of her life for too many years now, downturns and dead stretches and all.

When she slides down onto his lap, her hands bracing on his chest and his covering her back, she looks into his eyes and sees what she always has.

Gabriel Lorca, bright and impatient, just a bit reckless. Unlike her he’s never torn, never uncertain of the best course of action.

In moments like these, it's contagious, that feeling of certainty. Being with Gabriel has always polarized her, made her sure of her convictions, whether they align with his or oppose them.

He meets her, thrust for thrust, touch for touch. Their bodies almost as familiar to one another as themselves. Maybe more.

Later as she lies with her hair spilling across his chest, listening to the steady rhythm she feels a familiar wave of tenderness.

“Captain Hernandez was never going to select you,” she shares, listening to the interruption in his heartbeat, “This close to retirement, a conservative captain like that is looking for someone to play by the rules, respect standard procedures.”

“You aren’t conservative, Kat.”

“No,” she sits up to look at him, “But I am good at gauging probable reception and choosing to not ruffle feathers unnecessarily. You are a bit of a maverick. You like doing things your own way, making your own rules. Lucky for you somehow you usually end up being right, but you need to find a captain looking for glory, someone who wants to increase their profile and is willing to have a stubborn impulsive first officer if he can deliver as a result.”

It is true. Gabriel will find his way but he will find it sooner if he stops trying to brute force his way up the chain and chooses to be strategic. He can be. She knows that. Maybe it is her influence, like the way he seems to bring out decisiveness in her. Maybe it is just a part of him he doesn’t always choose to embrace. (The universe knows she has more than enough of those.)

“I guess you’d better hurry up and jump from Commander to Captain then,” he smirks but there’s some something else under it, “Since we both know you appreciate my talents.”

“Thank you, Gabriel,” she leans over and kisses him briefly, “For talking me into taking the leap into command.”

“Hey,” he says in mock defensiveness, “You were bossy and domineering when I met you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written to the prompt "You're bleeding of course you're bleeding."


End file.
